


VCR you kiding me

by Violetwilson



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:30:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16918071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetwilson/pseuds/Violetwilson
Summary: Rey and Ben buy Han and Leia's old house, and while they're renovating it they find a very stressful VHS tape in the crawl space.---“This is a cursed object,” Ben informs her. “And I am relegating it to the pits of hell from whence it came.”Rey takes a deep breath- it’s not that she wants to see Han and Leia…procreating. She doesn’t.“It’s just- it’s just so funny,” Rey blurts. "They made a sex tape!"Ben turns on her, hands on hips, jaw clenched.“It’s going straight in the Vitamix."





	VCR you kiding me

**Author's Note:**

> This is easily the stupidest thing I've ever written. It developed from a prompt over at the writer's den which is FILLED WITH SINNERS. I have nothing to say for myself. A billion thanks to winnie the busiebodie on Discord for the title.

Rey never minded hunting through trash. She’d made herself a good living as a scrap dealer. Paid her way through grad school _and_ introduced her to her boyfriend. Not a bad gig, really, and as far as side effects of strange jobs went, dating Ben Solo was a pretty good one.

Moving in with him? Even better, especially when his parents gave their house to Ben when they decided to move someplace warm for their retirement.

True love, a good job, and a paid for house? Not bad, in Rey’s book. Not bad at all. Even if it did mean that she and Ben had to spend the rest of their weekends for the foreseeable future renovating the house of the seventies kitsch the Organa-Solos had filled it with.

“Sweetheart,” Ben says, jogging down the creaky wood steps to the concrete basement they’re currently cleaning out. “Do you want to keep the bread maker?”

“Obviously I want to keep the bread maker,” Rey says firmly, sorting piles of old National Geographic magazines into “cool” and “probably racist” piles.

“Why?”

“Same reason I want to keep the VHS player. I like old stuff,” Rey says. “I can fix it up.”

Ben doesn’t argue. She lets him keep all his calligraphy supplies in the linen closet because _the humidity levels are just perfect, babe,_ so he can’t really argue with her on this one. She wants to turn the basement into a little workshop.

And, hey, at least the VHS player works.

“Did you know there’s a crawlspace back here?” Rey calls, interrupting Ben as he starts moving a stack of boxed car parts from the back of the basement to the bottom of the stairs.

“Hm?” he says.

She points to the little door on the wall next to her, and he sets his box down to come over to her.

God, when he straightens up and pushes his hair back, he looks like some kind of … mechanic hunk hottie. Rey stares at him, marveling as he crosses the room to crouch next to her.

“Crawl space?” he says.

Her mouth suddenly dry, she points to the little door. Ben leans past her, brushing her with the sleeve of his flannel as he yanks the door open.

“Looks safe,” he says, peering in. “Watch your head.”

“Cool,” Rey says, clambering forward and pushing her way into the narrow space.

Ben takes the opportunity to rub her ass, and she wiggles herself all the way inside with a little shriek of mock indignation, grinning like mad.

Rey likes that about Ben. He never tries to stop her. He just wants to watch.

Fully inside the crawlspace, Rey blows cobwebs out of her face and lets the faint light from the basement illuminate the contents of the room. More boxes, mostly, and-

The light hits something high up on the wall. It’s mounted right behind a stud, barely visible and held up by nails.

“I found something,” Rey says, but Ben doesn’t reply, and she knows he must have gone back to hauling boxes. Pulling it out, Rey turns carefully around in the narrow crawl space and climbs back towards the light.

Emerging from the crawlspace back into the musty basement, Rey coughs up some dust and holds the VHS tape up to the light.

In black sharpie, someone has written **2/23/1983** in a scrawling, masculine hand.  

"Ben? Did your parents take videos of you as a kid?"

His head sticks around from the corner, his hair covered in dust. "Sure. Lots. Why?"

"I found one in the wall, I think," Rey says, rubbing the dust off with the sleeve of her sweater. Ben crosses to her, his gaze curious.

“You found a box of old tapes?” he says.

“No, just this one. It was weird, it was like, nailed to the wall all sneaky-like,” she says, amused at the idea of a video tape someone would care about so much they would hide it from robbers.

Brushing her hair back, Rey muses, "It’s just got a date written on it though, so maybe"-

"Give me that," Ben says, crouching down next to her with a frown on his face. He holds it up, turning it over. His expression darkens.

"Where'd you find this?" he says.

Rey points to the hole in the wall.

"In there."

"Put it back and never speak of this again," he says darkly.

Rey blinks. "Ben, you good?"

"Yep," he says flatly, although he doesn't sound good. He sounds...nauseous. Unsteadily, he gets to his feet and walks across the room, ostensibly to resume his work with the box. But he just stands there, looking horrified.

Rey has a sudden thought. Oh god, what if this is his parents during their rough patch? What if this VHS tape has something to do with his falling out with his uncle, and that’s why Ben doesn’t want to watch it?

"Ben?" Rey says, reaching for the VHS tape again. "Maybe we should watch it. Whatever it is, we can face it together if it's painful."

"Rey," he says, sounding slightly strangled.

"I know your childhood had rough patches," Rey says, her voice hesitant. "But we live together now, we're dating, I think it's important to face these things."

“Rey. Baby. You’re killing me.”

She gets to her feet. “Look, I know it’s hard to be clearing out your folks’ house and all, but we can’t just shove the baggage under the rug. It’s like the therapist said-”

“Rey.”

“-healthy relationships are built on helping your partner be the best version of themselves-”

Ben runs his hands through his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose, his body radiating tension. It must be something really, really painful.

Rey gets to her feet, padding softly across the dusty floor and putting her hand on his flannel in what she hopes is a supportive yet firm girlfriend sort of way.

“I love you and I don't want you to run from your past-”

“Rey. It’s _porn,_ ” he says.

She stares at him, the VHS slipping an inch in her slackening grasp.

“No it’s _not,_ ” Rey says. “Your _parents_ built this house.”

Ben blinks at her, his expression long-suffering and filled with dread.

Rey blusters, gesturing wildly, trying to come up with some way that this isn’t what he says it is.

“And this date is like, a year before you were born. So it’s not like your parents were- you know….slutting around-”

Ben groans. Loudly. “It’s nine months before I was born. Nine months before I was born, Rey,” he says, eyes squeezed shut. “They shoved it in the crawl space of the basement.”

Rey glances down at the date. Back up to his face. Back to the crawlspace.

“No fucking way,” she breathes. “They made…they made…”

“Porn, Rey, the word you’re looking for is porn.”

“We have to watch it,” she says breathlessly, a grin cracking across her face. And yeah, maybe it’s fucked up, but his family is full of such drama and intrigue and heartbreak, that it tickles her to think that in this one way, Ben’s parents were utterly, completely normal people.

People who _fucked._

“You don’t understand, I will die of curiosity if we don’t play this tape,” Rey says quickly.

“No way,” he says, teeth gritted.

“Ben, Ben, Ben,” Rey sighs, subtly shifting the positioning of her feet. “I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Ben locks eyes with her, his expression turning molten with intent. She knows that look. That is the Ben Solo I-am-not-going-to-lose-this-argument-so-help-me-god face, and by her estimate she as approximately half a second to make a plan.

And then he lunges.

Rey jumps backwards, knocking over a stack of boxes and sprinting for the stairs up to the living room. Ben’s a massive hulk of sprinting flesh behind her, but Rey has a lifetime’s worth of track to her name and she can outpace him any day.

She’s up the stairs, sprinting through the doorway and divebombing across the couch into the living room to plunge the VHS tape into the aging VHS player mounted to the top of the old television. Rey sends a silent prayer to the heavens that his parents had left their old tech behind.

Ben clears the steps, yanks on her foot and bodily yanks her away from the television but-

“ _You’re too late,_ ” she crows, as Ben tucks her under his arm like a football and reaches frantically for the remote she’s already thrown across the room.

Then the year it, the telltale _chwinnk_ sound of the television coming to life. A blue screen fills the screen. Tucked between Ben’s torso and the couch, Rey stares as the image of a white wall comes into view. It’s silent for a few seconds. Ben looks…paralyzed above her, his jaw clenching.

And then they see it. The bare, white ass of Han Solo walking by the camera. The two full moon globes of a much younger Han. She can’t see his face, but there’s something about the swagger in his walk. Rey _knows_ that Solo boy swagger.

“He has the same dimple as you,” Rey whispers, awestruck.

Then Han turns around and exposes himself to the camera and Rey _howls_ with laughter. Ben flinches _,_ making a sound like a chainsaw turning on as he lunges for the T.V.

Rey is dying, laughing so hard that she can’t breathe, managing only to say, “His dick has the same _crook in it as yours,”_ before the wheezing overtakes her and she doubles over on the couch Ben has unceremoniously dropped her on.

“Jesus _Christ,_ ” Ben says, pushing the _eject_ button so hard Rey’s sure she hears something in the ancient machine snap.

“Ben,” Rey says, scrambling to her knees on the couch, one arm extended. “We have to keep it.”

“For the love of god, Rey, what is _wrong with you,_ ” Ben says, the VHS tape in his hand.

“Wait, wait wait,” Rey says, pleading up at him, giving him the best, most soul-melting look she can muster. “Ben.”

“Rey,” he says warningly.

“Hear me out.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben says. “I’m _destroying_ this thing.”

Ben crosses the room, storming to the kitchen.

“This is a cursed object,” he informs her. “And I am relegating it to the pits of hell from whence it came.”

Rey takes a deep breath. It’s not that she wants to see Han and Leia…procreating. She doesn’t.

“It’s just- it’s just so _funny,_ ” Rey blurts. "They made a sex tape!"

Ben turns on her, hands on hips, jaw clenched.

“It is _not._ ”

“It’s part of the history of the house- this is- it’s your conception, Ben, holy shit,” Rey says, succumbing to the giggles again. “We should put it back. Pretend we never found it.”

“It’s going straight in the Vitamix,” he informs her.

“Ben,” Rey says, an idea slamming into her. An idea so radical that it might even work. “I’ll let you do that thing you always wanted to do if you let us keep it.”

Ben stops, his hand still reaching for the cabinet where they keep the blender.

“What did you say?” he says, very slowly.

“You heard me. I’ll let you film us. I’ll _cheerfully_ allow it.”

It’s a bold card. She’d been toying with his request for months, kind of turned on by the idea of filming them fucking, but also sort of nervous. But know, knowing how much Ben wants a video like that, how much leverage it would give her-

Tapping her bottom lip, “I’m pretty sure the old video recorder still works. Films directly to VHS, if I recall.”

“That is,” Ben says, crossing to her. “The weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Please?”

Ben walks around the kitchen island, and she can see that he is, at least on some level, _very_ into the idea. His dick with that same bend in it (Jesus Christ) stands at attention, and she knows she’s already won.

“Okay, but I’d like it noted that this is the most fucked up thing ever.” Ben points a finger at her.

Rey shrugs. “At least with a VHS, there’s no digital copies.”

Ben walks to the couch and starts to crawl across it.

“Fine,” he says, grinning ruefully at her. “Let’s get analog with this.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this, I'd like to take a minute to apologize to you personally, and also to god, and also to jesus.
> 
> thank you to [Brit](http://reylo-solo.tumblr.com/post/180955595462/i-found-porn-vhs-tapes-from-the-80s-in-the-middle) for sharing her treasure of a life experience that this fic is based on. Please follow her and [read her fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssalemghostss) and give her endless love. 
> 
> Please follow me on [my Tumblr](https://violetwilson.tumblr.com/) or maybe also [my Twitter,](https://twitter.com/ViWiWrites) which are both just as absurd as this was thank you good night.


End file.
